


Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

by dorkysetters



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: :'), Alternate Universe - Magic, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Slow Burn, everything about the universe is the same but magic is a thing lol, set after the interhigh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 02:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13378635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkysetters/pseuds/dorkysetters
Summary: Oikawa has spent the last three weeks in hiding.It’s harder than it looks, although he suspects he would be good at it if the person he was hiding from didn’t suddenly turn up at every corner.He’s never realized before how difficult it is to hide in a hallway. There’s too much open space and the people that trudge to class around him don’t off much cover. He glances at the faces that surround him, searching for ridiculously spiky hair and a uniform that doesn’t sit exactly right. People glance back at him, and Oikawa tells himself it’s because of his new haircut and not the slimy black substance currently making tiny buzzing noises in his coat pocket.---In which Oikawa makes a stupid mistake and tries to fix it in a very stupid way.





	Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

Oikawa has spent the last three weeks in hiding.

 

It’s harder than it looks, although he suspects he would be good at it if the person he was hiding from didn’t suddenly turn up at every corner. After living such intertwined lives for so long, it really should be no surprise that getting away from Iwaizumi Hajime is a more difficult task than expected. Luckily, Iwaizumi seems to be trying to avoid Oikawa as well. 

 

Oikawa chuckles when he thinks about it. It’s fitting that after so long of being the main player in each other’s courts they would continue to support each other’s endeavors no matter what, even if said endeavors were to stay away from each other. Oikawa doesn’t necessarily appreciate the help if it means he never gets to interact with his best friend again, but it’s funny nonetheless. 

 

He’s never realized before how difficult it is to hide in a hallway. There’s too much open space and the people that trudge to class around him don’t off much cover. He glances at the faces that surround him, searching for ridiculously spiky hair and a uniform that doesn’t sit exactly right. People glance back at him, and Oikawa tells himself it’s because of his new haircut and not the slimy black substance currently making tiny buzzing noises in his coat pocket. 

 

The buzzing noises had not been expected and Oikawa had not been warned to anticipate them. Regrettably, overall the sketchy man on the corner hadn’t been very helpful or informative when he’d bought the thing.

 

With no Iwaizumi in sight, Oikawa strides with faux confidence towards a door labeled “exit”. He goes to open it and hesitates a moment, waiting for a teacher to tell him students need to head to class and not waste time daydreaming in the sunlight. No one does and he opens it.

 

The walk to the club room is brief and familiar. He doesn’t meet anyone on the way. He breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing he needs is someone asking why he’s at the club room so long before practice, or why his jacket occasionally starts leaking black goo. 

 

He locks the door behind him and closes the blinds of the only tiny window. The fluorescent light above him is the only thing left to keep the room from falling into complete darkness. It flickers menacingly for a moment. When it stops Oikawa arranges himself on the floor, back against the cold of the concrete wall. 

 

He takes the black magic out of his pocket and considers it carefully. Everyone knows magic is illegal. Depending on the kind of magic, possessing some can result in imprisonment of up to sixty years or more. Oikawa knows this. He’s read almost every article pertaining to magic and its uses and how much trouble it generally causes to anyone stupid enough to involve themselves with it. Anyone with sense would never go near the stuff. Oikawa had prided was himself on being among those with sense.

 

Once upon a time, Oikawa had thought anyone who needed magic to solve their problems were lazy. It was the Oikawa way to work on a problem until all solutions were exhausted, and then to work some more. Magic was a form of giving up, a way of brushing problems away without learning from them or improving. This was of course before he had fallen in love with his best friend and made the mistake of doing something about it. 

 

All of _this_ , Oikawa brings the slimy substance closer to his face, is more than he can wrap his head around. When he’d first entertained the idea of buying magic, he had supposed he could buy a little something to quell his anxiety, which would make talking to Iwaizumi again seem less daunting. While the magic currently dripping through the cracks in his fingers is far more useful, it’s also so strong it gives him a headache.

 

As he thinks the black goo emits tiny sparks, and Oikawa drops it with a squeak. It’s already covered in lint and dirt from his pocket, and now it’s on fire? How is he going to get Iwaizumi to eat this?

 

Although the magic dealer he’d bought the goo from hadn’t said much, he had been clear about two things. One, the only way for this particular magic to work was through oral means. 

 

He hesitantly scoops the goo from the floor. It stops smoking as soon as he touches it. He frowns at this (the oddities of magic are something he doubts he will ever understand, no matter how many articles he reads), but begins picking all the junk off of it anyway. He feels his anxiety levels increasing as he works. There’s no way any sane human on Earth would actually consider consuming something like this. Oikawa had said as much when he’d bought the stuff. 

 

“It’ll be edible,” the man had said. 

 

_ Oikawa couldn’t believe how helpful he was. It was astonishing, really. The dark alley in which they were standing hid him in shadows, so that Oikawa could really only make out the bright neon orange of his jacket. He internally cringes at this, and wonders how reliable a magician wearing Naruto merchandise can be. “The main thing to remember is that you have to eat it for it to work. This kind of magic is tricky, ya see.” _

 

_ Oikawa holds his head up high, and hides the disgust trying to plaster itself on his face. “And you’re certain it will work?” _

 

_ The man shrugs. “Mostly sure.”  _

 

_ Oikawa raises an eyebrow disapprovingly. “Mostly sure is not what I’m paying for.” _

 

_ “Look,” the man glances around the alley casually, as if he was people watching at a crowded mall instead of searching for people who might suspect something and turn them over to the police. “Memory magic is hard to get right. Especially when you’re trying to erase a memory. And even more so when the memory spans over over a three week period. Mostly sure is more than anyone else will be able to offer you.” _

 

Oikawa had had no idea if the man standing before him was a reputable magician or if his magic was safe. But it’s not like he had any other options. He had taken the magic goo and left with an empty wallet and an anxiety attack building in his throat. 

 

Two, it didn’t come pre-made and ready for use. This type of magic was partially DIY, something Oikawa had not appreciated.

 

The magician had laughed when Oikawa had hesitated at this. 

 

_ “What? Backing out now because you’re afraid to do something illegal?” _

 

_ Oikawa’s eyes narrow as he waits for the magician to continue.  _

 

_ “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re already committing a crime by talking to me. And besides, you  _ do _ want to erase a memory, right?”  _

 

_ The magicians voice is taunting, as if he’s reprimanding a child instead of talking to a client. The moments stretch in silence before Oikawa realizes the man wants him to respond. He nods, and all his faux bravado from before slowly starts melting away. _

 

_ “Well,” he continues. “I have no clue what this memory is. You could tell me, and I could transfer it into the magic myself, but it would lose its intensity, if you catch my drift.” _

 

_ Oikawa did not, in fact, catch his drift but he nods anyway. Anything to get out of this alley faster. _

 

To make sure the magic did it’s, well, magic, the magician went on to explain, you had to hold it and thoughtfully recall the specific memory that needed erasing as accurately as possible. Supposedly, the thoughts would seep into the magic goo and tell it which memories needed erasing, and which didn’t. Supposedly.

 

He feels the beginning of an anxious buzz starting to roll around in his chest.  _ Focus.  _ He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. Imagines that Iwaizumi is sitting crossed legged in front of him, telling him to stop being a dumbass and get it over with already. 

 

He starts thinking.

 

It had all started rather unfairly. All day, Iwaizumi had been stupidly happy about something. All afternoon, on their walk to Iwaizumi’s house, he had been hid his stupid happiness a bit, but it had remained visible, almost tangible. Oikawa had thought about say something about it, but didn’t want to ruin Iwaizumi’s good mood. After all, he was being uncharacteristically affectionate, if you could call not calling Oikawa a dumbass all afternoon affection. All evening, as they played video games in the dark and danced around talking about the happiness in the air, he was stupidly happy.

 

Although, by that point Oikawa had ceased to see it as stupid. Seeing Iwaizumi happy and smiley wasn’t necessary a rare occurrence, but it was definitely something to be treasured. It had been confusing, though. Afterall, Oikawa knew everything about his best friend. No new scholarships had been offered from any new, exciting universities, no new Godzilla merchandise was coming out soon. There was nothing to be so excited about, and yet there was Iwaizumi, laughing deeply at a cheesy pun Oikawa had stolen from Watari. 

 

All the happiness hanging in the air was suffocating. And since, for some reason, Iwaizumi didn’t seem to want to talk about it, he had let it contaminate him instead.

 

He’d leaned towards Iwaizumi’s smiles and matched them, laughed with him when one of them said something dumb. The darkness of Iwaizumi’s bedroom hid the blushes that came when they bumped elbows or pressed to close against each other on the bed as they moved with their controllers. 

 

The darkness hid him, and he felt brave.

 

Joy had bubbled in his chest and started to overflow. And then he had leaned forward and kissed his best friend.

 

He’d started to smile beforehand, a product of his giddy-ness. It was was bad for the kiss, but Oikawa was glad they would have something to laugh about. They could joke about how terrible their first time had been and nothing would be weird between them.

 

The strangled sound Iwaizumi made when their lips met killed the giddy smile and all the bravery and happiness that had accumulated in the dark, familiar room.

 

He’d pulled away and gaped. Iwaizumi’s face didn’t reflect the disgust his throat had just made, but there was a look of hurt and confusion spread evenly across his features. Oikawa didn’t understand. And then he did.

 

“I, uh” Iwaizumi had started, face red and devoid of the lightness that had been there moments before. “I have a girlfriend.”

 

It took half a second for the words to sink in, another half a second for them to break his heart, and a quarter of a second after that for Oikawa Tooru to put on the mask he usually reserved for too brilliant underclassmen; too bright a smile and piercing eyes. He felt like breaking down, so he did the only thing left to do and built walls around himself instead.

 

Oikawa smiled brightly and Iwaizumi flinched like he’d been punched in the gut.

 

“A girlfriend, huh? How exciting for you, Iwa-chan. I was worried you’d stay a bachelor forever, and I’d have to…” he trails off here.  _ And I’d have to take care of you _ . What a stupid thing to say, considering everything. 

 

Iwaizumi stood awkwardly while he waited for Oikawa to finish. When it was clear he wasn’t going to, he coughed into a fist sheepishly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

 

His voice was so full of regret and unspoken apologies it made Oikawa feel sick. “Hm,” he had hummed airily, both acknowledging Iwaizumi’s statement and dismissing all the subtext behind it. “Your timing is impeccable as always, Iwa-chan.”

 

Iwaizumi bristled. “I’m not the one that-“ He stopped himself, as if at the beginning of the sentence he had forgotten who he was dealing with and had suddenly remembered.

 

It was too late; Oikawa had inferred the rest of the sentence. “No, keep going. I just messed everything up didn’t I, hm? I really fucked up.”

 

“Oikawa-“

 

“At least you won’t be an ametur kisser for your girlfriend now. I could give you some critiques, if you’d like,” the last thing he wanted to do was mess their friendship up even more by continuing to talk, but his mouth went on moving without his permission. “First of all, do you have a pen? I really think you should be writing this dow-”

 

“This isn’t a joke. Stop being an ass.” 

 

“You’re right. It’s not funny.” 

 

They sat in silence for a moment. Oikawa waited for Iwaizumi to says something. His Iwa-chan was always so good with words; always good at saying the right thing so everything made sense. Time continued to pass, and he said nothing. 

 

With nothing left in his arsenal and with no first aid kit in sight, Oikawa decided to run away. He saluted his friend and made for the door. “See ya, Iwa-chan. Or maybe not, since you’ll probably be attending to your new girlfriend from now on. Tell her I said hi, won’t you?”

 

“Oh, fuck you.” Iwaizumi growled. Oikawa flipped him off, and closed the door shut behind him.

 

That was not how he had imagined their first kiss going. His pride pushed him out of the house without looking back and kept his head held high as he walked home. Only when he crawled into the safety of his bed did he let himself revisit what had happened. He had been so incredibly stupid. Iwaizumi was going to hate him now, if not because of the kiss, then for the biting, stinging tone he’d said biting, stinging things in.  

 

He was so incredibly stupid. Perhaps it was best that Iwaizumi hated him; he could go out and find a new best friend, someone better and more suited for the job. He could forget all about Oikawa and finally be free of his annoyingly needy setter. 

 

Despite speculations among his teammates, Oikawa was no crybaby. That job usually fell to Iwaizumi, and he wondered for a moment if the ace was shedding any tears over the predicament they had thrown themselves into. Instead of crying, he focused his attention on the regret in his chest until his eyes grew as heavy as his heart.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi had not been in hiding. He’s been in avoidance, if that’s even a thing.

 

Nothing changes about his routine after their kiss and the fight that follows. He simply slots Oikawa out of it, and goes out of his way to make sure their paths don’t cross. It’s easy and yet so incredibly difficult all at once.

 

Practice is the worst, and it’s here that Iwaizumi currently suffers. There’s no avoiding each other or the concerned glances their teammates shoot them sporadically. 

 

Iwaizumi has let Oikawa run practice single-handedly for the past few weeks, if only to keep their interactions to a minimum. They fight on separate sides of the court. Iwaizumi uses this to his advantage, and sets up a system of silent communicate with Oikawa. 

 

A spike heading straight to the setter usually means _I’m sorry_ or _I know I’m ignoring you but_ _please stop ignoring me you asshole._ He likes to imagine that Oikawa understands, and that when he serves a ball directly at the ace he’s responding back with either a _Let’s pretend nothing ever happened_ or an _I’m sorry too_. 

 

It’d be nice if they could use their words, instead of acting like toddlers. But Iwaizumi has enough pride to rival Oikawa’s and had made up his mind early on not to say anything first. Despite knowing by now that Oikawa won’t initiate anything without prompting. 

 

“Iwa-chan~” 

 

Unbelievable. He turns to see the setter jogging over to the corner of the gym he’s using to stretch. Kindaichi, who until now had been stretching next to him, makes a noise of surprise and mumbles some excuses before running off somewhere, to do something.  _ Coward _ , Iwaizumi thinks, although part of him wishes he could run as well.

 

Seeing Oikawa so close makes his heart pang with guilt. He’d kept Oikawa in the dark about his girlfriend for two weeks. It probably would have been more, if not for the kiss. He’d never even told Oikawa her name, although he assumes he knows it by now.

 

Suzuki Hatsumomo.

 

She’s kind and helpful and sarcastic. Iwaizumi likes her, and she likes him back. She’s on the basketball team and they met at the gym. She sends him memes in the middle of the night when he’s already fallen asleep and in return he buys her flowers. Iwaizumi has the sudden urge to tell Oikawa all of this, to tell him everything he’s missed out on during Iwaizumi’s two weeks of secret keeping and the three weeks of silence that have followed. Not to hurt him, because it would. But because Oikawa is his best friend, and not telling him something always feels wrong. 

 

“What?” Is all he manages to say and it hangs pathetically in the air until Oikawa speaks again, his voice sing-songy and light. Iwaizumi has to wonder if he’s magically forgotten about their fight, because his face is devoid of all the anxiety and guilt Iwaizumi feels. Then again, Oikawa has always been better at hiding.

 

“I brought you a present.”

 

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. This would be unusual even if they weren’t fighting. Oikawa never shares and never buys gifts for anyone unless it’s a birthday or he’s in an extremely good mood, which Iwaizumi doubts is the case. “Are you feeling okay?”

 

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “Do you want it or not?”

 

He does not, in fact, want whatever “present” Oikawa has suddenly decided to gift him, but if it means they continue talking he’s resigned himself to take the burden. “It better not be something stupid.”

 

“As if.” He replies confidently, although Iwaizumi notes how his eyes flicker to the floor nervously. He takes whatever he’s been hiding behind his back and cautiously holds it out.

 

Iwaizumi raises the eyebrow he had just dropped. He takes the bento Oikawa is holding out to him and opens it. “Why the fuck did you get me  agedashi tofu?”

 

Oikawa’s perfect face falls into a look of utter confusion for a moment before he collects himself and smiles brightly. “Silly Iwa-chan, do I need a reason to get my best friend his favorite food?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So rude, Iwa-chan. Of course your kind Oikawa-san would take the time out of his busy schedule to-”

 

“Stop referring to yourself in the third person.” The easy way they’ve fallen back into their “tease, insult, scold, repeat” routine is unnerving. 

 

Oikawa doesn’t say anything in response, which is equally as unnerving. He just stares at Iwaizumi and the bento earnestly, as if he expects him to start eating right there in the gym.

 

“Are you going to keep staring at me like that until I eat this?”

 

Oikawa looks offended at the suggestion that he has some sort of  _ look _ on his face, but he nods yes without complaint. This entire exchange has a air of wrongness to it; Oikawa is too cheerful and compliant and their fight hangs between them like a third wheel both of them are trying their hardest to ignore. So he does the only option laid in front of him and eats some tofu. 

 

The last thing he remembers is opening his mouth to tell Oikawa how shitty it tastes. And then the gym turns black.

  
  


Iwaizumi has always prided himself on being helpful. He might not be the best at anything, but he is always willing to help someone else be the best, or at least be better. Which is why as soon as he wakes up his first instinct is to help the concerned voices on the other side of the room instead of to address the pounding in his head. 

 

He doesn’t shoot up right away. The pile of cloth beneath his head and the cold floor beneath the rest of him are grounding, and he needs a moment to collect himself. After the moment is taken, he sits up groggily, and an involuntary groan escapes his lips. He feels excruciatingly hungover, but he doesn’t remember drinking anything. Weird. 

 

“Guys,” a voice says. It’s a familiar voice, but Iwaizumi’s pounding head takes a few seconds to process who it belongs to. Hanamaki. “I think he’s awake.”

 

The voices are quiet for a moment before one rings out too loudly and too excitedly. “Iwa-chan!”

 

His vision is a little blurry around the edges, but he sees the voices, not voices, he corrects himself,  _ people _ leave the corner they were whispering in and seat themselves on their knees in front of him. They lean forward, as if expecting him to say something.

 

He doesn’t. It feels as though his head might explode at any moment, so he sends them the most disgruntled look he can in hopes they’ll translate it.  _ What the fuck. _

 

“Yo, Hajime, are you okay?” Another voice. This one is Matsukawa. Concern lights up his features and drenches his voice. Iwaizumi’s head pounds as he wonders why. 

 

“Iwa-chan,” the last unidentified voice leans into his face and stares into his eyes before he can think of an answer to Matsukawa’s question, his voice dripping with worry and something else that Iwaizumi can’t place. His face looks conflicted, as though he’s struggling with what to say next. “Do you, ah, remember anything?”

 

Iwaizumi scowls again. He can’t pinpoint a name for this particular voice and the intimate position the boy has put them in makes his head spin with confusion. “Remember anything about what?”

 

_ “ _ You and Oikawa have been fighting. You don’t remember?” Hanamaki holds Iwaizumi’s gaze as he waits for an answer. 

 

“Uh-”

 

The unknown person makes a strangled noise that somehow wraps feelings of excitement, relief, and regret into one strange package. “See! I told you he wouldn’t remember!”

 

“Jesus christ, Oikawa, let the man speak for himself.”

 

Ah. Finally the voice has a name. Iwaizumi turns to Hanamaki and Matsukawa. “Can one of you explain what the fuck happened?”

 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa turn to Oikawa, and Iwaizumi feels himself reaching the end of his rope. Why would he want a stranger explaining things to him when two people he trusts are in the room? 

 

“About that…” Oikawa rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. He glances back and forth at the pair beside him and whispers to them in a failed attempt at discretion. His face is miserable. “I don’t have to say it, do I?”

 

“You do.” Hanamaki and Matsukawa reply in unison.

 

He sticks his tongue out at them. Iwaizumi hasn’t seen anyone do that since middle school, and he has the impulse to start laughing. This whole situation would be extremely laughable, if only his head didn’t pound with so much pain and frustration. 

 

“It’s entirely possible that I  _ may  _ have bought some magic to make you forget about the fight we had after, um. Yes. And it's also possible that the aforementioned magic made you pass out after you ate it. And I think that’s basically it? Well now that that’s all settled, I think we should get back to practicing now. I’m 99% sure Yahaba has been meaning to ask me something and I don’t want to-”

 

“You did what?” Iwaizumi stands up, only to have to sit back down as his vision starts to blur. “What the fuck? What the fuck.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Iwa-chan. I shouldn’t have-”

 

“Stop. Stop calling me that.” He glares at Hanamaki and Matsukawa. “Have either of you called the police yet?”

 

They share a look. “Why would we call the police?”

 

His voice booms in anger, and he sees Oikawa shrink into himself out of the corner of his eye. “ _ Why wouldn’t you? _ ”

 

The room is silent for a few excruciating moments. Matsukawa draws his eyebrows together. “He’s your best friend, Iwaizumi.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Hanamaki laughs in a way that shows he doesn’t think any of this is particularly funny. “Let’s not make this worse than it already is, okay? I don’t think any of us are in a joking mood.”

 

“I’m not the one joking! Is this one of you guys’ stupid pranks or something?

 

“When have our jokes ever been anything like this.” It’s not a question, and Matsukawa doesn’t look like he finds anything humorous here either.

 

“...Isn’t this you branching out or something?”

 

“Look, Iwa-ch-”

 

“Iwaizumi.” He corrects. Oikawa’s face falls.  

 

“Do you… do you not know who I am?”

 

Iwaizumi stares at him, looking for something that will make the name “Oikawa” and the phrase “best friend” fit neatly together like two puzzle pieces. They lock eyes, and Iwaizumi searches them for answers. He finds nothing but a beautiful shade of brown.

 

“No.”

 

Oikawa doesn’t make any sign that he’s heard Iwaiumi’s answer. He just keeps staring, his eyes doing their own searching. Iwaizumi feels as though he’s on trial, and gets the impression that those eyes could see through anyone.

 

He gets the impression that Oikawa is not someone he would care to be best friends with, even he did remember him.

 

Matsukawa coughs to break the silence. “What’s happening?”

 

“I think,” Oikawa stops his searching and looks away. Iwaizumi wonders is he found what he was looking for. “Something went wrong between the time when I had the magic and when I gave it to-to Iwaizumi. But the only thing I did to it was put the memory of the-“

 

He clamps his hand over his mouth, eyes wide with surprise. Hanamaki gently pries his hand away so he can continue.

 

“When I was thinking about the memory I wanted Iwa...izumi to forget, I kept thinking past the point where we’d separated. I suppose the things I thought-“ he pauses for a moment and looks down at his hands. “could be interpreted as me wanting him to forget me entirely.” 

 

The group sits in awed silence for a moment, except for Iwaizumi. His silence has more to do with utter confusion then any feelings of astonishment. 

 

Matsukawa lets out a long whistle and Oikawa scrunches his face at him. 

 

“Well,” Hanamaki stands up, signaling for the rest of them to follow. “Let’s go do something about it.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi, I'm not sure how I feel about how the first chapter of this turned out so comments are def appreciated !! The title was inspired by heaven knows i'm miserable now by the smiths lol


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